Blackfoot Forest rippling out through his past and future

for @Slavik

the tundrian does not stray too far from the dark woods. two or three ...or was it four? ( he'd long since lost count ) ...territories away wasn't terribly far. and as it stood, he was more than capable of finding his way back. what surprised him the most, perhaps, was the fact that he would go back. there is a deeper appreciation now for things he only scoffed at as a child. perhaps not a solid belief in otherworldly deities — he is still weary and hesitant as far as all that goes — but there is a newfound respect and that is a start.

in the daylight the blackfoot forest is nothing short of something out of a fairy-tale. the stench of fox lies heavy in the air and there is a soft noise of distaste that leaves the tundrian's lips as he shrugs through the bramble and ducks beneath low-hung spindly branches. he wanders today with no purpose other than to wander, glad that he has the freedom to do so without having to answer for it. he is alert, ears cupped forth atop his skull and glacial gaze continuously scanning the untrodden path he forges for himself through the forest.